Half told stories

Some half told stories,
tired of waiting for an end,
embarrassed of being read,
are seeing through days for ink to fade.

Some half told stories,
afraid of suicide the climax could commit,
by reaching the last page before meeting an end,
are desperately hoping for different ends.

Some half told stories,
hoping the pen lying dead on their chest,
is lifted by a writer,
who can ferry them on his emotions to an end.

Some half told stories,
wandering through imaginations,
are curious to discover an end,
in anxious beats of desperate souls